Worthless Rhythm Is Our Guide:  Gilmore Girls
by Whedonist
Summary: Happy International Day of Femslash - this is a set of shorts featuring various characters set to the rhythm of a few songs from The Black Keys.


**Title:** Worthless Rhythm Is Our Guide  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> The majority of the characters contained herein do not belong to me. They belong to other people and I'm just using them for a little bit of recreational fun. No harm. No foul. No monies made…  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Gilmore Girls  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Various  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> A set of shorts featuring various characters set to the rhythm of a few songs from The Black Keys.

**A/N:** Happy International Day of Femslash! I can't participate in Con festivities, but I hope everyone has a good time. This bit is my contribution to celebrate today. I hope that if you read, you enjoy what I've done, some is A.U. and some is centered around canon.

* * *

><p><strong>Everlasting Light<strong>

I sneak through the front door and listen to the sounds coming from the kitchen. I shake my head and mumble, "Of course it's early Madonna."

I walk through my child home, now my adult home and stop short at the kitchen entrance. Holly and my mother are laughing it up, covered in bits of what I think are batter and using two mixing spoons to sing along to Lucky Star.

I shake my head. This was not how I pictured my late twenties. When my mom swings her arm over Holly's shoulders and pulls her in for the last line of the song to harmonize, I know it doesn't matter how I saw it. Just that today, it's exactly how I want it to be.

"I can't leave for three days without you two mauling each other?" I finally speak up.

Holly spins my way first, beat red and looking like Mr. Kool Aid filled up with Tropical Punch.

My mom just rolls her eyes. "No way am I pulling a Laurel Canyon, Rory. I'm way too cool for that." She pops the pretend collar on her t-shirt and grins. "Welcome home, kiddo."

"Hmm," I smile and bob my head. Crooking a finger at my girlfriend, she finally manages the stunning smile I fell in love with during my first real job as a journalist.

"Welcome home," she whispers against my lips.

"Thanks, Starlight," I mumble back.

Her eyes crinkle in annoyance and I smirk before she closes the distance between our lips.

* * *

><p><strong>The Only One<strong>

Lorelai sat back and took a departure from her usual banter to just listen. She listened to Luke bark orders or snap at customers. She listened to a few patrons of the diner she sat in more than she did her own kitchen carry on animated conversations. She listened to her daughter. It was her second favorite past time. Her first was talking to her daughter.

"And then," Rory stabbed the air with her fork, a piece of lettuce skewered to the end, "do you know what she did?" A sculpted eyebrow rose over the deep blue it sat above waiting for the response. "She completely freaks out. Is it my fault that she's having a mental break down over that stupid boy she doesn't even like?" Rory jams the fork in her mouth crunching down on the lettuce.

Lorelai watches her daughter chew indignantly and smirks. She can't help it. For the last two and a half years, since Paris Gellar became a part of her daughter's life, she's been subjected to such tirades. The fact that her daughter will carry on for hours about the girl, but none of the boys she's dated, is the clincher. The fact that Rory sounds like a jealous girlfriend when she has to mention Jamie is the cherry on top. One day she hopes Rory will see what she does. Maybe one day, Rory and Paris will get it together.

Lorelai won't hold her breath.

* * *

><p><strong>Howlin' For You<strong>

She watches from the bed amused as the leggy brunette with piercing blue eyes hops around her hotel bed. She slides along the still heated sheets and covers herself up to her chest propping her head in her left hand. It was an impromptu vacation; she'd only be in town until Sunday. She wasn't looking for anything coming from the city, just some time away from the hustle and bustle of it all.

It's become far more entertaining than she had anticipated.

"I'm sorry," her lover blurts out, "I just…" Lorelai trails off as she finally manages to get her pump on, "...well, I mean, this so totally not kosher. So far beyond actually. I mean there's a strict no fraternization policy between Inn guests and staff and I've just sort of taken that rule and thrown it out the window."

The woman in the bed can't help but smile at the manager's obvious discomfort, so she asks, "Just who exactly am I going to tell? You're the boss. I can't complain to you."

Lorelai wags a finger at her after she closes the last clasp on her bra. "I hope you wouldn't complain...I mean I hope I was...it's not like I do this often," she stops and smacks herself in the forehead, "What I mean is I don't do this. Period. Ever."

"Well," the woman slips from the bed and slides up to the woman, "I would hope so, but it's okay." She leans in and pecks Lorelai's nose. "Besides, you were wonderful and I hope we could maybe go to dinner or something before I leave."

"Uh, uh, yeah, yeah, sure, uhm, find me later?" Lorelai slips her shirt on and heads for the door. "Just uh…"

"Don't ask for the hot brunette manager that rocked my world?"

"Yep," Lorelai answers and slips out the door to the soft chuckles of the woman she left behind.

* * *

><p><strong>Never Gonna Give You Up<strong>

"I'm not doing this again!" Rory practically yells as she slams the door to her – to her and Paris' room.

"Rory, please," Paris pleads as she perches on the edge of her bed. Her hands ring together as she takes in the agitated state of her ex.

"No, Paris. I'm not. Okay," Rory hisses as she begins a tight pace across the small room. "You know I didn't say anything in D.C. I didn't say anything our last year at Chilton because everything was just...it was so...Who needed the Hughesian drama of our lives with everything else that was going, but this…"

Paris watches as Rory's rant loses steam and she finally ends up flopping back on the slim twin mattress across from her.

Paris takes her chance then, slipping from the bed and landing on her knees in front of Rory. "I'm sorry okay. I screwed up. I just...with my mom and my family...Rory you know how much pressure they put on me. Terrance helped. Please, we can do this – I can do this."

Rory searches the face kneeling before and feels her resolve crumble. "I'm still mad at you," she states lamely.

"I am still not going anywhere," Paris reassured.

* * *

><p><strong>The Go-Getter<strong>

"Are you waiting on someone?"

The question pulls Rory from the mental psych-up she was giving herself. She blinks up into smoky green eyes and blushes. "Uh, uhm, no?" Rory looks the woman over, black slacks, cream button down shirt, the top three buttons undone hinting at the green lace bra hidden underneath the silky fabric.

"I'm Emily," the brunette extends her hand and is pleasantly surprised when Rory reaches out and takes it in greeting.

"Rory," the reporter supplies.

"So that whole waiting on someone question, you didn't sound so sure...you want to try that again?" Emily asks, taking the initiative and sitting down on one of the free stools at the table.

"Nope, I'm uh, not waiting on anyone, just here to check out the scene…" Rory's lips press together as she bobs her head.

"Hmm," Emily hums, slightly amused, "First time?"

Rory swallows and looks around the bar. "Yes," she answers honestly and watches the other woman soften at the admission. "Uh, can I buy you a drink?"

"That would be lovely," Emily says smiling. Leaning over, she whispers, "Breathing helps, Rory and don't worry, I won't bite...unless you ask." Rory gulps and waves down the waitress thinking that she should have listened to her mom and brought her along as her wingman.

* * *

><p><strong>Too Afraid To Love You<strong>

"So was this going to be a deathbed confession! Were you just going to drop this on us when it would be the most damaging? The most embarrassing?" Emily Gilmore ranted at her daughter and the woman sitting to her daughter's left.

She watched the two women exchange glances and Lorelai speak up, "See, I told you. I told you this was a bad idea. We should have just gone to Massachusetts; gotten hitched and sent them a Christmas card in a few months." Lorelai leaned in and wiggled her eyebrows. "We could have made it all cute. Put little rainbow flags and equality signs on it."

Rolling her eyes, Julie shook her head. "You aren't helping, babe."

"Did you at least bring your gun? Please, oh, please tell me you brought your gun," Lorelai pleaded to her law enforcement girlfriend.

"Still not helping," Julie rolled her eyes.

"Lorelai, answer me," Emily spat.

Lorelai shook her head and ignored her mom. "Scared yet? If she pulls a Linda Blair, baby, it's every woman for herself."

"Not even close," Julie answered unable to suppress the grin.

* * *

><p><strong>Your Touch<strong>

Rory fell back against the hotel pillows, sweaty and not even close to being tired. Sheets tangled at her feet as her bed mate curled into her side. Breasts pressed against her side and she shivered at the once foreign concept. Reaching out, she spun a lock of blonde hair around her finger and broke the silence, "Your enthusiasm for a quintessential Spring Break experience has allowed for some interesting results, Ms. Gellar."

Paris snorted and buried her head into Rory's neck. She didn't think it would have ended up this way either, but she couldn't say she was displeased with the turn of events. "You didn't think I was going to let Madeline and Louise show me up did you, Gilmore?"

"Not in the least. I just…" Rory trailed off; dropping the lock of hair she was playing with and reached for the sheets to cover herself up. "I didn't expect this you know?" she finally said after making sure the sheets were tucked around them both.

Paris shrugged. "We can chalk it up to experimentation and never mention it again. If you want?" Paris offered feeling the mood shift in her...lover?

"Uh, I don't know, I mean, it's not like we can…" Rory tried to say, but stopped and asked, "Is that what you want?"

Propping herself up on her arm, Paris looked down at the disheveled brunette. Never one to back down, she lifted her chin and said, "I don't know. I say we see how it goes. Right now, Gilmore, I think we should talk less though."

Rory relaxed against the mattress and nodded. She could play along for as long as Paris could and the fact that Paris excelled at pretty much everything she did, didn't hurt either.


End file.
